Post by Mac Old Site on Mar 22, 2006 12:21:05 GMT -5
OOC Information
Name: Mac
Age: "I am sixteen going on seventeen . . ."--16 1/2
Contact: alycepalace@bellsouth.net/ sweetswim07 {neopets}/ alycepalace {AIM}
Role Playing Experience: It has been a year for me with website roleplaying--Winter's End Weyr, Tanlath Weyr, Silver Weyr, Haunting Screams, Realms of Vareshel, and numerous others that were insignifigant.
Part II
IC Information
Role Play Sample: “In ye go, filth!” The gaurd smirked as a rough looking young adlut was shoved roughly into a cell. “A night in 'ere and we'll have no more problems wit 'im. At least the king says so.” The sound of the heavy boots on the stone floor resound until the heavy, dungeon door slammed shut.
The youth stayed where he landed, on the floor with his arms resting on his knees. Something felt warms in his mouth, wiping it he grimaced at the sight of blood. A black eye and a busted lip, that was better than last time he'd been caught; the gaurds had mocked him then and cut and shaved his hair, mainly because of his culture where the men did not cut their hair until they were married.
He ran a hand through his ragged, dark curls; he liked to keep dirty, that way the gaurds never reconized him when he did get caught. Yes, slowly and surely the youth had been penetrating the king's fortress, like his father had done right at first before him.
The diamond green eyes watered and glazed over as the youth reflected on his father; Arrnesal had been a blacksmith in the village of Farmir who had married a foriegn wife and lived in prosperity. After the city was attacked and Arnesal retaliated, he had been the first of the innocent peasants to die. Before he died he left his valuables in the care of his beautiful wife and his weapons with his only son.
Something tickled in the back of Arsilan's mind. A broad grin speard across his unique features; his mother had pointed ears, Arsilan had slight points and startling features. Slanted eyes and a strong chin, his triangular shaped nose was said to be an inheritance from his mother's elven side. His nimble fingers found the rogue knife in his boot.
It was thin enough to twist between someone's ribs, or just perfect for picking locks and still having a weapon. Going to the door the medium sized youth easily opened the cell door. He had escaped from these cells numerous times, but most of the time he had had someone on the inside, before the had been sent to a different post, now it was all up to his wits.
“This is too simple,” he whispered to himself as he headed for the dungeon door.
The Genres: Fantasy, Medieval-Fantasy, Modern-Fantasy, Vampire, Dragon Riders of Pern, Pernese, Harry Potter, other Fanfiction, and Modern roleplays.
Name: Mac
Age: "I am sixteen going on seventeen . . ."--16 1/2
Contact: alycepalace@bellsouth.net/ sweetswim07 {neopets}/ alycepalace {AIM}
Role Playing Experience: It has been a year for me with website roleplaying--Winter's End Weyr, Tanlath Weyr, Silver Weyr, Haunting Screams, Realms of Vareshel, and numerous others that were insignifigant.
Part II
IC Information
Role Play Sample: “In ye go, filth!” The gaurd smirked as a rough looking young adlut was shoved roughly into a cell. “A night in 'ere and we'll have no more problems wit 'im. At least the king says so.” The sound of the heavy boots on the stone floor resound until the heavy, dungeon door slammed shut.
The youth stayed where he landed, on the floor with his arms resting on his knees. Something felt warms in his mouth, wiping it he grimaced at the sight of blood. A black eye and a busted lip, that was better than last time he'd been caught; the gaurds had mocked him then and cut and shaved his hair, mainly because of his culture where the men did not cut their hair until they were married.
He ran a hand through his ragged, dark curls; he liked to keep dirty, that way the gaurds never reconized him when he did get caught. Yes, slowly and surely the youth had been penetrating the king's fortress, like his father had done right at first before him.
The diamond green eyes watered and glazed over as the youth reflected on his father; Arrnesal had been a blacksmith in the village of Farmir who had married a foriegn wife and lived in prosperity. After the city was attacked and Arnesal retaliated, he had been the first of the innocent peasants to die. Before he died he left his valuables in the care of his beautiful wife and his weapons with his only son.
Something tickled in the back of Arsilan's mind. A broad grin speard across his unique features; his mother had pointed ears, Arsilan had slight points and startling features. Slanted eyes and a strong chin, his triangular shaped nose was said to be an inheritance from his mother's elven side. His nimble fingers found the rogue knife in his boot.
It was thin enough to twist between someone's ribs, or just perfect for picking locks and still having a weapon. Going to the door the medium sized youth easily opened the cell door. He had escaped from these cells numerous times, but most of the time he had had someone on the inside, before the had been sent to a different post, now it was all up to his wits.
“This is too simple,” he whispered to himself as he headed for the dungeon door.
The Genres: Fantasy, Medieval-Fantasy, Modern-Fantasy, Vampire, Dragon Riders of Pern, Pernese, Harry Potter, other Fanfiction, and Modern roleplays.